It was the hottest summer on record. Aquila's mother had the fans blowing in every room of the house as she unpacked. Aquila had already finished, flicking her wand when her mother wasn't looking as she unpacked every box that was piled in her own bedroom. The wallpaper was peeling and there was water damage, but she could fix that with a coat of paint. It was her mother she couldn't fix.

The woman had raised Aquila on her own since her father was murdered, some fifteen years ago. Aquila could barely remember her father's face - dark curly hair that contrasted his gray eyes, often long and at his shoulders. It was a lot like Aquila's own hair, only hers was extremely curly from her mother's side, and sleek as she pinned it back over a shoulder. Her eyes weren't grey, though she wished they were. They were brown, like her mother's. As Aquila quietly walked down the stairs, she saw the frail woman. Her health was fine, but her emotional state was always on the bend. Aquila thought she'd get over her father's death ... Aquila certainly had, but the woman still cried over him every night.

She distracted herself, now. She always did. Aquila slipped towards the front door. "I'm going to the playground down the road... Unless you'd like some help?"

"Go ahead and make some friends," the woman insisted, waving her hand towards the outside. "No magic. We don't want to bring them here."

"I'll be fine," Aquila insisted. She paused in the doorway as she pulled it open. "Love you, Mum."

"Love you, too."

Aquila darted out into the hot sun, shutting the door firmly behind her to Number 8 Privet Drive. No one was out there in the world, it seemed. There were no clouds, blinds were shut, air conditioners buzzed. Aquila sighed and pulled her hair up into a messy bun as she smoothed down her sundress. At the end of the road was the playground that she had seen when they first arrived in this ... dull neighborhood.

"Who's Cedric? Your boyfriend?" Aquila glanced up sharply, her eyes finding three rather large boys taunting a scrawny boy on the swingset. Upon approaching, she saw that it wasn't just any scrawny boy - Harry Potter. Of course he was here, but... "Where is your mum?" The blue sky, as Aquila approached them quickly, became black as Potter shot out of his seat and pressed his wand into one of the larger boy's neck.

"No!" Aquila cried. She glanced at the sky worriedly as it churned, black clouds appearing all around. "What do you think you're doing?" She grabbed Harry's arm without thought and wrenched him back, tucking his wand into his pocket. "What are you doing?" she hissed dangerously.

"Who are you?" Harry and the large boy asked at the same time. The other two had run off when the clouds had changed and she could see their figures retreating in the distance.

"We need to run, now," Aquila whispered, glancing up at the sky once more. "Feel it?"

"It's going to rain-" the large boy said simply.

"No! You don't get it, do you, boy?" Aquila snapped. "Weather doesn't just change like that. Something or... or someone's coming. Someone that will kill you. That will kill all of us." She took both of their wrists. "Let's go." And then it began to pour. She glanced wildly around. She had seen a storm tunnel on her journey here. She just needed to find it again. She let go of them once she was sure they'd be following and glanced around as she avoided looking at the sky. "Where's the storm tunnel?"

"Shouldn't we go home?"

"You don't want to lead it to your house, do you?"

"There-" Harry pointed. She saw the goosebumps on his skin as he ran past her. So he felt it too, then. He checked it before watching them both come inside. Aquila let out a breath.

"Haven't ran like that since I trained Cedric for the Tournament," she panted. She collapsed against the wall, staring at the entrance of the tunnel. "You're an idiot, Potter, you know that?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Me and my mum just moved down the road. She wanted quiet, Dumbledore suggested Little Whinging. To protect you, no doubt." Aquila glanced at the larger boy. He seemed scared out of his mind as he looked around wildly. "Who's he?"

"Cousin," Harry informed her. "I don't even know who you are."

"Aquila Black," she informed him, offering her hand. He shook it. "Sixth year this year."

"Harry Potter. Dudley Dursley." She looked to the large boy that was breathing heavily, giving her a nod. "You felt it, didn't you? The cold?"

"Happy memories, Harry," she winked, confirming she had. "I'm not in Ravenclaw for nothing." She glanced around before approaching Dudley Dursley. "You're a Muggle, aren't you?"

"A what?" he asked.

"That's a yes," she muttered. She glanced towards the tunnel entrance once more, seeing the freshly fallen water turning to ice. "Right, you see me or Potter get knocked out, you know what you do?" He shook his head and she continued. "You run to Number 8, and you tell my mother that Dementors are attacking. If you can't remember that, remember that some creature that flies that will suck your soul out or freeze you to death, okay? Number eight, flying soul sucker."

"Number eight, soul sucker. Dementor," he muttered.

She smiled. "Good, you're a smart one. I was rather hoping that." She grabbed his arm suddenly as the black figure entered the tunnel, swooping towards them. Aquila stumbled back, nearly falling into Dursley's body, but he caught her and seemed rather confused. Of course, Muggles couldn't see them.

"Potter, you know how to produce a patronus here..." she trailed off as the dementor hovered in front of her, hesitating before turning to the large boy beside her. Dementors couldn't see. This wasn't normal. They shouldn't even be here.

"I-" Dursley murmured. "I don't see anything."

"You won't," she told him. "You don't have magic. Just trust me when I say back up very slowly. Don't move quickly. They can't see you, but they can feel your fear. Just stay calm. Breathe-" She glanced to the left to see Potter knocked to the ground, reaching for his wand as another Death Eater loomed over him. "Potter," she hissed. "Hurry up."

He was concentrating on his memory, but Aquila clutched her wand tightly. She didn't know how to do the spell. She didn't know strong her memory had to be. There weren't many outstandingly happy memories in her life. The black figure surged forward suddenly, knocking her to the side as it loomed over Dudley Dursley.

"Calm, Dursley," Aquila insisted. "Breathe-"

It was too late. The figure was already drawing the fear and energy out of the boy. Two. Just two dementors, like they didn't expect to ... to have three people. That must have been why they were so confused. She focused on her memory. "Expecto Patronum." Nothing but a faint light glowed at the end of her wand before it blinked out. Merlin, come on. She tried a different memory. "Expect-"

"Expecto Patronum!" Aquila felt helpless as the large stag knocked away Harry's Dementor and then made a beeline for Dudley's. She watched as Dudley fell forward, nearly catching him before he fell face first on the ground. "Come on, before they come back."

It was still pouring as she helped Potter support Dudley Dursley's weight, sloshing in the mud, her dress sticking against her skin with each step. She should have just gone with the jeans and shirt like she had planned, but she wanted to dress summery. Now she was freezing, wet, and going to catch a cold.

"Why were you at the park today?"

"I was just looking for a day out to catch some color," she told Potter. "Maybe meet some neighbors... and then you attack your cousin, and these Dementors arrive... yeah, not exactly how my day was planned, but it could have been worse. And I did meet some neighbors."

"You said Ravenclaw, earlier."

"My house," she informed him, turning off the main street and up a driveway. "We, uh, are smart, you know? Like reading and stuff."

"And do you?"

"No way," she snorted. "I'm smart, get good grades, but I hate research. You're brave like the 'Dor you are. You've got a decent head on your shoulders, too."

"Yeah, well, I have Hermione to help with that."

"Granger probably writes your essays."

The door opened with Harry's shove and they stumbled into the dry foyer of the home that was identical to Aquila's own in design. She spotted the cupboard under the stairs where her mother had dictated as the magic closet. All things, like potion ingredients, would go in there. She noticed the stairs as well, which led up to nearly an identical lay out. Yes, all the houses must be the same, then. Her distracted thoughts left her when a heavy weight appeared on her foot. "Ow," she muttered, shooting a glare at the boy that looked a little delirious. She supposed it wasn't his fault. Muggles didn't react well to the magic. She knew that. That's why she told him to move slowly - but the Dementor seemed to be looking for him.

"Is that you- What the ruddy hell happened?" a large, beefy man cried. He must have been Potter's uncle. He and the large boy had a bit in common. "Did you do something to him-?" He froze when he saw Aquila. "Who are you?" Rude.

"Ella," Aquila winced as she was given more weight as Harry moved. "Uh, I just moved in down the road yesterday. Number 8?"

"Oh, yes, I saw the moving truck," he muttered. "Let me take him from you." The beefy man approached her and dragged his son to the other room. Harry glanced at her before inviting her in.

"I'm a bit wet," Aquila admitted, wincing as she tried to unstick her skirt from her legs. "Ugh."

"They'll ask questions, and I feel like you'll have more answers than me." Aquila doubted that. She followed him into the living room, hiding her grimace at the furniture that was severely ... ugly. There was no other word for it. The couch and the chairs were all not matching and almost fluorescent.

"See what you did? You've finally driven him loopy!"

"Vernon! Don't say that!" a woman cried, cradling Dursley's head in her arms. A bucket was resting between the boy's legs and he looked pale and slick with sweat.

"Chocolate," Aquila stated. "He just needs a bit of chocolate."

Vernon turned towards her. "What happened to him?"

"I..." She glanced at Harry, but he didn't seem to know. "I was walking to the park. It was so nice out and I wanted to get a bit of color-" She winced as he seemed to be losing patience. "They came out of nowhere, I swear, sir. It started to pour and I ran into these two as we got into the tunnel - the storm tunnel down the road-"

"I know the very one," Vernon interrupted. He didn't seem like a very patient man.

"These- These, Dementors - Uh, they're sort of these cloaked figures that - er, they suck out your soul, I suppose. They're not supposed to be this far south. They surround the Isle of Skye, guarding a prison for-for witches and wizards that ... well, they murder people-"

"And one of them sucked Dudley's soul out?"

"No!" Aquila said quickly. "No, he just needs a bit of chocolate. The dementors, they-they feed off of your happiness. That's how they live. All they've done to your son is made him feel a bit sad and cold on the inside. Chocolate helps that. It's the best treatment. He wasn't affected that much. Only a few seconds, but it makes Muggles a bit sick, because of the direct magical contact-"

"You're one of his lot-"

Aquila winced at the obvious way he was looking at her. Like a second class citizen. "Yes. I, er, go to his school. Never met him before, actually, though. He's in a different social cloud than I." She glanced at Potter, rolling her eyes. "I'm quite certain chocolate will help though."

The mother hopped up, her red hair a streak as she ran to the kitchen and was back in an instant, handing the candy bar to her son. Dudley hesitated, looking queasy, but ate it after a moment, a few hesitant bites. Already colored seemed to be appearing. He stood, shrugging out of his mother's vice grip. "You knew it was coming."

"Er, yeah. You can tell," Aquila told him. She glanced at Potter. "Boy Wonder recognized the signs."

Eyes turned to Harry, but Dudley's stayed on her. "You knew as soon as you started talking to us," Dudley stated. "He didn't even know yet."

"I study science during the summers," she admitted. "Er, I like learning." She blushed as eyes turned back to her. "Um, the condensation of the air. It was scorching outside, and in three seconds flat it is pouring and freezing." She glanced at herself for proof. "It's not natural. Not even our magic can do that." She cleared her throat. "The dementors bring freezing cold air. They live in it and they survive in it. They've never lived in warm air before. It's physically impossible. Anyway, they literally froze the air until the water that was up high and causing it to be humid and deathly hot, condensed into storm clouds. The rain was just the result of the immediate condensation..." They looked lost. "I just knew it wasn't normal. There were storms all the time at my school when Dementors guarded it one year."

Dudley's eyes got wide. "Didn't they attack?"

"The only person they ever attacked was POtter," she stated. "He went out of the boundaries one day during our Quidditch match."

"That was against your team?"

She glanced at Potter incredulously. "I've been on the team for four years, Gryffindor. I'm a Beater."

"You?" He assessed her. "You're that Aquila?"

She shrugged. "I'm stronger than I look, Potter. What about you? Can you even press more than Granger's weight? Your girlfriends, what? Hundred pounds?"

"He has a girlfriend?" Dudley demanded.

Aquila grinned. "Well, no. Well-" She glanced at Potter. "He does have a thing for Cho Chang, but he feels too guilty about Cedric to go after her. So I guess the answer would still be no. Granger's into that Bulgarian heartthrob - Viktor Krum. Has Weasley realized he has feelings for her yet?"

"Er-"

"No," Aquila summed. A loud clap of thunder caused Aquila to jump. It sounded so much like apparation. Apparation. . . "I need to get home. Uh, glad you're alright-"

"I still have questions."

"I live at Number 8," she informed him. "You can stop by and ask, if you want." She glanced at Potter. "Er, you too. I might go crazy not living in a magical community. Never tried a Muggle town before." She glanced toward the window as it thundered once more. "Twas great meeting you all."

Aquila turned to leave when a hand grabbed her arm. She looked up in surprise to find the mother staring at her, a pinched smile on her face - but it reached her eyes so it was sincere. "It's pouring buckets. Stay until it calms down. You can ring your mother and tell her you're staying for dinner. In fact, you can invite your parents over-"

"We don't have a phone," Aquila admitted. "We don't call people."

"Harry, go invite her parents over," Petunia insisted. "Would you like something dry? I can place your dress in the dryer. I'm sure I have something that fits you. I still have a few things from my secondary school-"

"Oh, I don't want to trouble you. I really should be getting back," Aquila insisted. Why was she inviting her and her mother over? It didn't make any sense. The woman didn't even know her. "Er-"

"You saved my son from having his soul sucked out, so-"

"Oh, that wasn't me-"

"Nonsense. Harry, go on. Fetch her parents. And make sure you bring an umbrella. Wouldn't want them to get wet. Now, come with me, dear."

"Er, it's just my mother and I. Dad died when I was little," she stated awkwardly.

"Go get her mum, then," the woman prodded Potter, shoving him out the door.

Aquila was directed towards the stairs as she shot Potter a confused look. He shrugged like he didn't know either. Taking an umbrella he ducked out into the dark outside. He really shouldn't be outside. "My name's Petunia Dursley. Please, call me Petunia. Now, what size do you wear? You're quite skinny-"

"Er, not that sure. Wizard sizes are different than Muggle."

"Nevermind that. We'll find something." She opened the last door at the end of the hall - the same as her mother's room - and she noticed it was just as badly matching as the sitting room. "Do you have a specific pattern you like?"

"Oh, no, I'm sure anything's fine," Aquila admitted. She spotted the bathroom. "Do you mind if I, er... do something with my hair?"

"Oh, make yourself at home," Petunia insisted, digging through the closet.

"Thanks," Aquila muttered before moving towards the door. She left it open, but grimaced when she saw herself. Her black hair was slick and she ran her hands though it to try to brush it out before it dried in knots. She pulled out her bun and redid her hair, so that when it dried, it would be at least somewhat pretty in a simple ponytail at her shoulder. She didn't wear makeup - she found it took much. Too Hufflepuff. Too Muggle. Her mother didn't allow it, either. Said her little girl didn't need it.

So Aquila listened - most of the time. The Ball had been different. She had gone all out. She had glittered and perfumed and put on high heels and she had dressed in an extravagent and fancy dress that had cost a fortune. And he had gone with her.

"Is this alright?" Petunia's voice interrupted. Aquila glanced up sharply, seeing the rather severe looking woman holding out a... well, it wasn't bad in the slightest. She certainly had taste when she was younger. The dress was a pale green color, sweetheart neckline. Aquila took it, surprise obviously on her face. "Yes, my sister helped me with my fashion sense. It was atrocious."

"This is gorgeous," Aquila murmured. She touched the fabric, feeling the silk of it slide against her fingers.

"I'll start dinner then, while you change. You can just bring your dress down when you're ready for it to be dried."

"Thank you," Aquila said as Petunia turned away. Petunia glanced back, confused. "Why are you doing this? I could have just gone home. Two seconds in the rain is no trouble."

"I insist," Petunia said simply. "You're a good girl. You remind me of my sister..." She gave a nod. "I only ask that ... you don't say the word magic in the house. Vernon hates magic... he loathes it."

"I wouldn't want to-"

"Nonsense. I'm sure you can change his mind," Petunia said simply. She closed the bathroom door shut behind her. Aquila was quick as she slid out of her wet sundress and used her wand to dry her hair before she balled up her dress and exited the bathroom, figuring out to turn off the lights. She cautiously walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, the ball of wet dress in her hands. Petunia turned when she saw the girl. "Oh! It looks lovely on you! Brings out your natural complexion." She took the wet dress. "Let's just get this dried up, then. Would you like some tea?"

"Oh, no, thank you." Aquila shifted awkwardly. "Would you like me to help? I can cook."

"Oh, would you be a dear and stir the noodles?"

"Sure," Aquila said quietly.

"What did you say your name was?" She glanced out of the corner of her eye to Vernon, who had asked the question. He was standing with arms crossed. Dudley was just finishing off his chocolate bar.

"Aquila. But my friends call me Ella."

"Aquila," Vernon repeated gruffly. "Strange name."

"It means Eagle in Latin," Aquila informed him. "It's also a constellation in the sky. My mother likes the stars."

"I see," Vernon muttered. She didn't think that was a good tone he had, but she didn't comment. The door opened suddenly and Harry's voice permeated.

"I'll take that from you."

"Oh, thank you." Yes, her mother's posh and sophisticated accent from when she grew up in the high life of Pureblood society in London. Frequent visits with wizard and muggle royalty.

"Oh! You must be Aquila's mother," Petunia gushed. "My, you two could be sisters!" Aquila highly doubted that. Her mother was blonde, curly haired, brown eyes, and looked no older than twenty five. "My name is Petunia, and this is my husband, Vernon. And our son, Dudley." She glanced towards Harry. "I'm sure you've met Harry, my nephew."

"Oh, yes, lovely to meet you. My name's Euryale Rosier-Black." Harry's eyes jumped at that. He recognized both names - he may not have registered that she was a Black before when they were about to be hunted by some dementors.

"Yes, well, come in, come in," Vernon insisted. "I'll take your coat."

"Oh, thank you. I'm afraid I had no time to dress up. I've been unpacking all day," Aquila's mother apologized. She shed her coat, revealing the wool dress that seemed to be in fashion - that forties thing. Aquila rather liked them, actually, so she had no qualms, but her mother was a bit over dressed... and in a Muggle community. That style didn't fly anymore.

"Oh, that's absolutely lovely," Petunia admitted kindly. Aquila doubted the woman had ever given so many compliments in her life. "Dinner's almost finished. Do you like pasta?"

"Oh, I grew up on it," Euryale smiled brightly. Aquila stepped back from the stove and Euryale looked her over. "You've changed."

"I got caught up in the rain," Aquila admitted. "Petunia was kind enough to offer me this as she dried my dress."

Euryale smiled at that, thanking the red haired woman, before Aquila was shooed out of the kitchen. "Do you like tea? I'm about to put a kettle on."

"Tea would be lovely. I'll drink any."

Petunia insisted that the two of them take their seats as she finished up in the kitchen. Her and her mother sat together, Vernon at one end. Dudley Dursley sat across from Aquila, looking uncomfortable and out of place. Harry sat besides him, looking the same. A glance towards Vernon and he was trying to stuff his shirt into his pants without her mother - who was sitting closest to him - from noticing. She supposed her mother being gorgeous was a perk to helping Petunia let Vernon like witches and wizards.

Aquila glanced towards Petunia as a she set a few cups of tea on the table. "Are you sure you don't want a cuppa, Aquila?"

"I'm sure, thank you," Aquila murmured.

"Well, then, we have water, coffee-"

"Water would be lovely," Aquila interrupted before the woman could go on.

She nodded and ran off.

"So, Euryale, was it?" Aquila's mother nodded to Vernon, a smile hinting at her lips as she sipped from her tea delicately. "Where's it you come from?"

Aquila guessed that this would be an awkward dinner... a very awkward dinner indeed.